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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525769">Love In a Small Town</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep_deprived_writer/pseuds/sleep_deprived_writer'>sleep_deprived_writer</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Red White &amp; Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff and Angst, Gay Panic, M/M, POV Henry, Pining, Small Towns, i am stress, idk how to tag, this is extremly self indulgent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:07:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525769</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleep_deprived_writer/pseuds/sleep_deprived_writer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Henry is in love with Alex but Alex hates him. When their English teacher forces them to work together its Henry's dream. Shitty small town shenanigans ensue</p><p>or</p><p>Me projecting onto Henry for an indeterminate amount of time RWRB style.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>okay the first chapter is super short. sorry. but i hope you guys enjoy this self indulgent mess :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As Henry sat through another English lecture (if it could even count as that) he stared at the head of brown curls in front of his face. This specific head of brown curls hated him and had made that very clear on more than one occasion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry knew why and he hated himself for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex had been the new kid at school when Henry’s dad had died. The week Henry came back was the same week Alex started and Henry hadn’t had any other way of dealing with his grief than taking it out on others. Alex had been seated next to him in class and asking questions. Henry normally would have been happy to help out someone new, but he was an angry 12 year old who had just lost his hero. Henry answered every question rudely so that Alex would stop. When Alex didn’t, he’d gone to the teacher.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He asked to be moved because Alex was bothering him, and as he had found out years later in the middle of a shouting match for the ages, Alex had heard. Henry never apologized. Not for anything that he had done or said to Alex or anyone else. He couldn’t. It meant that he would have to look them in the eye and relive and explain why he did what he had. He couldn’t stand the pity and the “I’m sorry”s. He couldn’t handle the forgiveness. Forgiveness that he didn’t deserve. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, asshole. Wake up.” Henry jumped and looked around him. Alex had turned around and was glaring at him while holding a piece of paper. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-uh. What?” Henry stuttered out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have another partner assignment and the idiot we call a teacher insists we work together.”  Alex’s voice was tight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. What’s the assignment?” Henry tried to be unbothered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to write a retelling of a dystopian short story from this list. It's due in a month.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, that sounds pretty easy. Especially for us. I like to write and you're creative.” Henry said with a smile. He tried to be nice to Alex. But Alex seemed to think that Henry had a bone-deep hate for him. in reality it was just the opposite.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amazing. I'll send you a list of ideas and you can write the one you want to.” Alec said turning around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need your email.” Henry blurted out. Alex turned back around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you need my email?” Alex asked him skeptically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To send you copies of drafts and ask you questions. These are your ideas, after all. I want to do them justice.” Henry shoved a hand in his hair and tugged on it while he waited for Alex's reply. Alex looked like he was going to say something but instead took a leaf of paper out of Henry's notebook and wrote his email on it before wordlessly turning around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry's mind was whirling. In less than five minutes he had a semi-civil conversation with Alex, gotten his dream assignment, and a way to contact Alex. He was happy until he saw the note that was by Alex's email. “Don't overuse it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry resumed staring at Alex's curls, hoping in vain that he could gain some answers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bea, he refrained from insulting me for almost a whole conversation. It was so weird.” Henry said into his phone as he laid back onto his bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If him barely insulting you is a good sign you need to reevaluate your relationships, mate.” Pez said from where he was sitting at Henry's desk and listening to the conversation that was happening over speaker phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pez is right, Haz. You need to get over him.” Bea said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve tried.” Henry whined. “It's impossible. I can’t escape him. He’s in all of my classes, in all of my clubs. Alex has infected every single part of my life.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Henry, love. You either need to sort your feelings out or you need to cut him out. This is killing you.” Bea sounded sad on the other end of the phone. Pez got up from the desk and moved to sit by Henry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling, you deserve to be happy. Pining after Alex isn’t making you happy.” Pez laid a hand on Henry’s knee. Henry groaned and moved to where his head was in Pez’s lap. Henry was vaguely aware that Bea and Pez both knew that Henry wasn’t going to talk about this anymore, so they started to talk about Bake Off to get him involved back in the conversation.t wasn’t working. Henry was too far into his head to care. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>emails, feels, and more emails.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i am going to try and possibly post a chapter a week. so we'll see how that goes. they also will probably be pretty short depending on the events. pacing and outlining is foreign to me</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>On Saturday Henry emailed Alex. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>To: agcdiaz@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From: henry.fox@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: English Project</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dear Alex,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The project is due in a month. If you could send me a story to rewrite it would be much appreciated. I have a few busy weeks ahead with elections and homecoming and I would like to get a head start.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you have no objections to subject issues I would like to do a novel that was written as a commentary on the AIDS epidemic. If you cannot find any then that is fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Happy Researching, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the afternoon Alex responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To: henry.fox@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From: agcdiaz@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: English Project</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t find any dystopian stories referencing the AIDS epidemic (what the fuck is up with that). I talked to Mr. S and he said that he would let us write our own dystopian story as long as you cite things. So, have fun with that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Has anyone told you that you write emails like a fucking prince? It’s annoying as hell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry responded immediately, much to the amusement of Pez who had been staying the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To: agcdiaz@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From: henry.fox@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: English Project</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dear Alex,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thank you for talking to Mr. S. It means a lot to me. I’d appreciate it if you would add some input;this project is for both of us. We also need to meet outside of school sometime to brainstorm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know if I should be flattered or offended by being called a prince. I’m also intrigued as to how you know what a prince sounds like. Is it just your imagination or personal experience?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thank you,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry stared at his ceiling fan after sending the email. Pez had gone into the kitchen while Henry wrote and rewrote the email. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry’s eyes tracked the rotors of the fan as he thought. He thought about his father for the most part. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry wondered if his father would have advice for this hellish situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His head was replaying a conversation he’d had with his father after the first round of chemotherapy. Henry’s father had been picking at the dinner provided by the hospital. Henry had been alone in the room with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry had thought he had been holding it together quite well, despite the constant pressure behind his eyes, until the hospital gown slipped down and he saw the port in his father's chest. He must have made a noise because his father had finally put down his fork and turned to Henry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Haz?” his dad had croaked, his voice weak. “What’s wrong?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry had shook his head. His dad knew to wait patiently though, Henry was going to talk. He could always talk to his dad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-I-I want you to be better. I want you to stay. I want to be able to see you every day. I want to have all of these things and I can’t. It feels so selfish to want them but I can’t help it.” Henry’s sentence ended in a sob. He hid his face in his hands as his shoulders shook. He heard his dad shift in his bed. Henry lifted his head slightly to look at his father. His dad opened his mouth, closed it and then thought for a moment before starting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Henry, you are so strong and incredibly brave. I love you with all of my heart and I want you to know that I will love you unconditionally. Forever.” Henry’s father paused for a moment. “You never need to hide anything from me Haz. Please know that. And hey, look at me.” Henry did. He saw his dad smile softly. “If you’re selfish for wanting all of those things then so am I.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry was about to tell his dad. He was going to, but the second Henry opened his mouth, Phillip burst into the room with a plastered-on smile and a bag of takeout. Henry’s face dropped back into his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Henry, are you okay?” A jolt shot through Henry’s mind that brought him back to the present. A present in which Pez was sitting next to Henry on his bed with a furrow in between his eyebrows. Henry was confused about Pez’s concern until he brushed his cheek and his fingers came away wet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I am? My head isn’t being nice today,” Henry said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you not to dwell on Alex. I won’t help any,” Pez said gently. Henry shook his head sadly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It wasn’t Alex. It was my dad,” Henry whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Henry,” Pez said softly and tucked a strand behind Henry’s ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-It was right after his first round of chemo. Everyone else had gone to get food. I stayed behind. I got set off by something and broke down.” Henry shook his head to get rid of the grief. “I was going to come out but then fucking Phillip.” Henry let out a sharp laugh. “Fucking Philip.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where is the bastard anyway?” Pez asked. Henry knew nothing was going to get him out of his head, even bitching about his brother or praising his sister, but he appreciated Pez’s effort .</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you know. He’s somewhere in fucking Kansas learning about fucking onions like that’s going to help in any way shape or form.” Henry’s voice started to rise. “We don’t even have the equipment to pick onions. The only things we farm are cotton, alfalfa, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>occasionally </span>
  </em>
  <span>wheat. We farmed broccoli one time and we lost so much money because our buyers don’t buy that shit. I don’t know how he expects to make a profit off of something that won’t even get bought. He’s so hell bent on being Dad that he’s going to ruin the family,” Henry ends with a sad sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Onions? Why onions of all things?” Pez asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because he smells like them,” Henry said in a deadpan. It was so childish and so ridiculous that they both broke down laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pez and Henry came up with worse and more ridiculous insults for Philip for a long time after that. When the ping of Henry’s email went off, he didn’t even leap for his phone. He just came up with yet another insult.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later, when Henry heard Pez’s breathing slow down on the bed next to him, he finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span> grabbed his phone to look at Alex’s email.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To: henry.fox@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From: agcdiaz@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: English Project</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Prince Fucking Charming,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>We can meet at Starbucks Monday right after school. Do you have a car? June is the car all next week and no offense (kinda) but I’d rather not walk 6 blocks in 90 degree heat with you. Okay a little offense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I sadly don’t have experience with princes but you sound pretentious to be one most of the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Toodles,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alex</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Henry was grinning as he typed his response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To: agcdiaz@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From: henry.fox@gmail.com</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Subject: English Project</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An Actual Child,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Starbucks it is. I’ll meet you outside Ms. Bankston’s</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So it was both?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Farewell,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Henry</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>huge thanks to scone for betaing this chapter. truly anyone who can make me look like i know what punctuation is an angel sent to earth.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A huge thanks to Lise for being an amazing person/beta. A huge thanks to the discord server for listening to my ramblings. Come join out chaos. https://discord.gg/nfyTZtT</p></blockquote></div></div>
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